Night Thunder's Bride: Blackfoot Warriors, Book 3 (34 page)

Today, however, Rebecca appeared to be working alone, the others busy with preparations for the big Sun Dance, whatever kind of dance that was.

Every now and then Rebecca would look upward to catch whatever activity took place around her, and she did so now.

To her right she saw old men, with gatherings of children around them; to her left, women, sitting around a large robe, sewing, perhaps even discussing some ancient legend, or maybe speculating upon the love life of their young people. The laughter of many people’s voices joined the rhythmic throb of the drums, played in accompaniment to the intoxicating melody of a song being sung.

Rebecca had realized that she was growing accustomed to such things as these and would feel lost to awaken each morning without hearing the chattering of the birds, the stirrings of the camp to life, the voice of some old woman reciting to Sun the names of her grandchildren, the camp crier as he went through the village encouraging others to awaken.

So, too, would she miss the smell of smoke and the beginnings of preparation for their morning meal. She would miss Night Thunder’s teasing her about the silly customs he kept making up.

Rebecca would have to admit, too—and she grimaced as she thought if it—that she would miss Blue Raven Woman and the girl’s constant cheer. Strange, that Rebecca should have become so attached to these things so quickly and to the other woman in so short a time.

Yet she had.

But why would she miss them? Was there some reason she would never experience them again? She couldn’t remember.

Blue Raven Woman approached her.

“
Nit-ik-oht-yaahs-i’taki k-ikaa o’too-hs-yi,
I’m glad you have arrived,” Rebecca said.

“
Sok sok,
good, good.”

Blue Raven Woman took a seat beside Rebecca. After a moment, the other woman said, “
Kit-ik-asok-a’po’taki,
you work very well,” and gestured toward the skin in Rebecca’s grasp.

“
Iniiyi’taki,
thank you.”

Blue Raven Woman stared around her and Rebecca began to suspect that something was bothering the other woman.

Rebecca didn’t at once ask the Indian girl any questions about what it might be. As she had found was customary, she worked quietly for a while, hoping the other woman would start the conversation.

But when more silence followed and still Blue Raven Woman did not appear to have courage to speak, Rebecca asked, “Is something troubling you?”

Immediately tears formed in Blue Raven Woman’s eyes, though she turned her head away that Rebecca not see it.

Rebecca grasped the other young woman’s shoulder. “
Tsa,
what is it?”

Silence followed as Rebecca observed Blue Raven Woman attempt to bring herself under control. At last, the Indian girl began, “I come here to beg a favor of you.”

“Of me?”

Blue Raven Woman nodded.

“Of course,” said Rebecca. “
Tsa,
what is it that you would like to ask me?”

“I need you to ask Night Thunder to speed the marriage between himself and me.”

Speed? Rebecca’s insides dropped as though she sailed through the air. Had she heard the other woman correctly? Rebecca couldn’t speak.

“Know that I would not ask if it were not important.”

The young woman must have sensed something amiss, for the Indian girl glanced at Rebecca briefly and asked, “You would welcome me into your family, would you not?”

Rebecca nodded.

Silence ensued.

At length, Rebecca found the courage to ask, “Is there some reason, now, that you are asking me this?”

Blue Raven Woman nodded, but didn’t enlighten Rebecca as to what was that reason. And Rebecca couldn’t find the right words to ask. All she knew was that she couldn’t let Blue Raven Woman marry her husband.

“No,” Rebecca tried to talk, to form the words, but somehow her lips wouldn’t move. She tried again, this time in Blackfoot, “
Saa,
no,” but all she managed was a small whimper.

Why couldn’t she speak?

Someone took hold of her hand. “Rebecca, wake up,” someone whispered in her ear. Night Thunder? Someone put something—a salve?—onto her head and made it ache again. Rattles shook over her, tom-toms beat beside her—she heard them, as well as the wail of a voice singing something that sounded, even to her untrained ears, like a lament.

She cried out, but then stopped, the energy expended in doing this too much. Taking a long breath, she went back to her dreams—or were they nightmares?

Someone held her hand. Someone had moved her so that she lay in the sun.

Rebecca struggled toward consciousness but couldn’t open her eyes, nor did her lips work. She could utter nothing.

She dimly heard the sounds of people all around her, but she couldn’t focus on them.

She heard noises, a huge commotion, and then in Blackfoot someone said to her, “Twelve of our young warriors are coming racing into the Sun Dance camp.” It was the voice of her Indian “mother,” Blue Raven Woman’s mother. Was she also the one who held her hand? How Rebecca wished she could ask the questions, but nothing in her body seemed to work. The voice went on, “They drag behind them the evergreens that they have only cut this morning. See there,” a shadow passed before Rebecca’s closed eyes, “the medicine man has given the signal and now the young men throw the evergreens over the Sun Dance lodge. And now here come two of the women from the Blood tribe with the eagle’s nest. Soon the medicine man will place that nest at the top of the Sun Dance pole.”

The woman asked, “Can you hear what I say?”

Rebecca couldn’t answer.

“Wiggle your fingers against my hand if you can understand me.”

Rebecca tried, but her hand seemed not to work. She must have accomplished something, however, because Morning Child Woman said, “That is good.”

“Sun is now directly overhead and the medicine man is finally giving the signal that the Sun Dance lodge be erected.”

Suddenly it seemed as though the world were coming to an end. Never had Rebecca heard such noise, yet still she couldn’t come fully awake.

Morning Child Woman continued, “There must be a hundred warriors now rushing into the camp. Can you hear them?” Rebecca tried to wiggle her fingers. “They are galloping all around the Sun Dance and they are yelling and shooting, showing Sun how proud we are to be doing honor to him this day.”

Soon the odor of gun smoke and powder reached out to Rebecca, yet still she could not force her eyes open.

“And here come the Sun Dance women—they who have sponsored this dance for the people. There is your sister, Blue Raven Woman. Can you see her? She has been fasting for these past few days that she honor you. As soon as you became ill, she announced that she too would be one of those to give the Sun Dance, that you might recover. After today, you will see. Sun will heal you.”

It seemed too much an effort for Rebecca even to think of contradicting the woman, and so she did nothing more than breathe evenly.

“There is Blue Raven Woman now, taking her seat next to the medicine man. Before her will come all the braves who are to dance to honor Sun this day, one of them your husband, Night Thunder. He dances for you that Sun might reach out to you and bring you back to us.”

Night Thunder. Rebecca’s heart filled with a warmth and a joy she hadn’t felt for many days. Night Thunder was dancing for her? Dancing?

“Do you see her now, she is painting black the faces and the wrists of the young men. Hold on. Soon the dance will begin and you will start to feel better.”

Would she?

“Now the medicine man has grabbed the eagle’s nest and is painting the black circles around the hole where the Sun Dance pole is to go. It is done. Now he has placed the blanket over himself and is fastening the eagle’s nest to the pole. Soon, my daughter. Soon. Take heart.”

Rebecca tried to respond. She couldn’t. Her body wouldn’t obey her commands.

“Five of our braves have now rushed to the pole and are placing it in the hole, with the medicine man still atop it.
Aa,
yes, he does not fall. All is well. The Sun Dance will continue. Now, here come the young men who are to dance. Do you see him, he who is your husband? He stands tall. He stands ready to dance. This is the second time he has danced for Sun. You should be proud of him.
Aa,
very proud.”

Rebecca wanted to agree, but all she could do was wiggle her fingers in her “mother’s” hand.

“
Aa,
yes, you care for him deeply. I can tell. Now it is his turn to stand in front of the medicine man. The medicine man is running his knife into your husband’s left breast…”

He was what? Rebecca tried to object. What was wrong with her body that it didn’t respond?

“Now he runs another gash alongside that one and he is placing the rawhide thong into the cuts. Night Thunder has not made a sound. He is a brave man. Now the medicine man is repeating the procedure on the other side of Night Thunder’s chest. There is only one part left before they begin dancing and that is to tie the thong onto the Sun Dance pole. It is done. Your husband is yet awake and has not made a sound or fainted. He is a brave man.”

Or very stupid, thought Rebecca. But she couldn’t talk. She could do nothing but listen in helpless attention.

“Now he starts to dance, hoping to pull free of the thong. Soon, my daughter, soon, you will be well. You will see. Their torture, their giving something of themselves, will appeal to Sun, and he will heal you. I have seen this thing happen many times.”

Rebecca’s hand remained in the other woman’s, listening to her commentary on the dance and on Night Thunder. Time passed, minutes turned to hours, and still the young men danced, as told to her by Morning Child Woman. One by one the warriors had pulled free of the bonds which held them, or had passed out from the effort.

It seemed to Rebecca much too long to be torturing oneself, no matter the reason why, yet Night Thunder still danced, having not yet freed himself from the bonds, or having fainted as her “mother” had commented.

“Night Thunder is the only one left, now,” said Morning Child Woman. “All the rest have jerked themselves free or collapsed. Here goes the medicine man to the pole to attach the thong to a horse that it might release your husband of the bond. He is still awake. He has still not gotten free. Now the medicine man is backing the horse up and he will soon make the horse charge—”

Whoosh.

As the sickening sound of tearing flesh split the air, Rebecca came suddenly awake, her eyes flying open in terror.

What had happened to her husband?

“Is he all right?” These, the first words out of her mouth, seemed to startled her “mother.” But Rebecca rejoiced in the fact that her voice worked, her body again responded to her command.

She raised one of her hands up in front of her face, wiggling her fingers, then stared into the eyes of her Indian “mother.” Why did her “mother” cry?

“Your husband is fine.” The woman’s voice broke, but still she continued, “The medicine man is giving him herbs for his wound and Night Thunder will rest, but Sun has heard his plea. He has healed you. You have come back to us, my daughter.”

And the strangest thing happened right then and there: for the first time since coming to the Indian encampment, Rebecca looked at the other woman as though she were exactly that—her mother.

Rebecca let out her breath in one long, drawn-out sigh. “What happened to me?”

“Do you not remember your fall from the buffalo?”

“Buffalo…? Aye, I remember, but…”

“Sun almost took you from us.”

Aye, he almost had. “I need to see him.”

Morning Child Woman seemed momentarily taken aback. She asked, “Sun?”

“No, I need to see Night Thunder.”

Morning Child Woman nodded. “We will go to him at once, my daughter. We will get you there to him.”

Rebecca tried to sit up; she was too weak to accomplish it on her own, however. Morning Child Woman helped her up, Rebecca placing her weight upon her mother, as Rebecca gazed out into the Sun Dance circle, seeing the people gradually leaving the area. Rebecca asked, “How long have I been unconscious?”

Morning Child Woman made a sign with her hands, then spoke, “Seven days you have been gone from us and we did not know if you would ever awaken. But now, Sun has healed you, do you see? Here you are again, with us.”

Rebecca smiled. It felt good to be alive, to feel her body again respond to her own will, and as she breathed in the fresh prairie air, she felt herself gain strength. She asked, “Could you help me up and walk with me so that I may go to my husband?”

Morning Child Woman agreed eagerly, and nodding toward another—perhaps Morning Child Woman’s sister—the two women assisted Rebecca, enabling her to stand up on her feet.

The three of them began to leave the Sun Dance circle, stepping through the Indian encampment with Morning Child Woman and the other woman’s help. Rebecca received several gestures of friendship, she noted, from more people than she cared to count—people coming up to her to reassure her that they were pleased that she had “come back” to them.